Hunter (The Fractured Fairytale Series)

by J. A. Wynters

  “That guy will be waiting for us out there.” I try to sound as matter-of-factly as I can even as my heart whips against my chest.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he says, oozing confidence and nonchalance. Then again, it is his job. Finally, he might come in handy.

  Hunter follows me out of the lounge, and as expected, the weasel is waiting with his camera in hand, eyes full of dollar signs—fuck.

  “Emilia, Emilia look here, let me take a picture of you.” I hear the snap of his camera as I look down and cover my face. If Hunter doesn't deal with this guy, I’ll have to call my dad’s publicist and it will get back to him—and that’s the last thing I want. I walk faster.

  “Emilia.” The guy calls again. People are starting to stare and I need to make an exit.

  Hunter leaves my side and the man is no longer shouting my name. I chance a backwards glance and see Hunter has him pinned against a wall with one large hand the other wrapped around his camera. He leans in and starts whispering in the photographer’s ear and his face drains of colour. When Hunter pulls back, the man is nodding frantically and starts playing with his camera. Both he and Hunter watch the screen. Hunter nods and says something which has the man nodding again before Hunter releases him. The man walks backwards till he’s put enough distance between Hunter and himself then turns and walks in the opposite direction, not giving me another glance.

  Hunter saunters over to me, a smug smile plastered across his face, “Shall we go?”

  I grind my teeth and follow him. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him he can't publish pictures of my ass without my permission and that he should leave us alone.” He winks at me and I battle a smile.

  We make it to the car. Adrenaline surges inside me wiping away the alcohol. I slam the car door and my phone buzzes again. Hunter gives me a sidelong look as he starts the engine. “You gonna get that?”

  I shake my head and silence the phone. “I can’t… I can’t face him yet; I need more time.” More time to gather my thoughts and my courage and maybe my things. I make a mental note of everything I've learned, all my contacts and plans. I guess I can move them forward.

  Leap.

  “You want me to take you somewhere?”

  His kindness makes my heart swell and I wish it wouldn't. “I have nowhere to go.” It’s true. I’ve tried to remain mostly anonymous while I’ve been here—staying in the house, only going to the studio and back, being out only when needed, hiding in plain sight. But today shook me. If that guy recognised me, how long will it be till others do too?

  “I know a place.” He winks at me and it sends a long, warm shiver down my body. I nod and he drives out of the parking garage.

  11

  Hunter

  I had no intentions of bringing her here. In fact, if Wolf was still living with me, he’d wring my neck. We had just two rules for this apartment and I’ve just broken the first. Never bring a girl over. No matter how pretty or sweet or how much we wanted to fuck her, there should always be an alternative—starting with her place and ending in the hotel a few blocks down the road where I basically have a membership to room 675.

  I park the car and step out, letting Emily follow me up the stairs and hold the door open for her. Since Red and Wolf moved out, the place could use a bit of love. If she notices, she keeps her thoughts to herself as she scans the space and makes her way to the couch.

  “New paint job?”

  Nothing gets past her. “Yeah.” If only she knew why she might not be too excited about it. Seems it’s easier to sand over blood stains and paint the wall than to try and clean it. Problem is, when you paint one spot the rest of the dirt glares at you, so you have to paint the rest. Fucking Jenny. My eyes snap up at Emily, and for a second, I hope I haven't made a dire mistake.

  “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” She gives me a tight smile as she scans the room, I leave her to it while I make the drinks.

  When I come back she’s standing at the mantle, her fingers lightly brush the framed picture of the three of us. I’m sure she recognises Wolf.

  “Is that your sister?”

  “No he is far too ugly and a man, the other one is though.” I try to break some of the tension between us. I think I see her lips twitch in a smile. I hand over her coffee.

  “Thanks. She’s pretty.”

  “I guess so.” I shrug.

  “Where is she now?”

  “Probably at home or at the gallery.”

  “She’s an artist?” her face lights up a little.

  “Yeah, a really good one.” I feel the pride swell in my chest. Red worked so fucking hard to get where she did. She deserves all that success. Fuck. I really do need to tell her that. If she ever speaks to me again. “You guys look happy.”

  I feel the smile tugging at my lips remembering that day. “We were.”

  “And now?”

  I sigh, “Now? She’s with Wolf and I need to make amends.”

  “She’s punishing you?”

  “I deserve it.” I don't elaborate and I’m thankful she doesn't pry; it still feels pretty raw. I know what I did was wrong but it all came from a good place and Red holding it against me, despite everything I've done for her over the years, stings. But she can’t be coaxed and pushed, when she’s ready we will have that conversation.

  “What will you tell Daryl?” I divert.

  Her brows furrow and she drags her fingers slowly over her lips as she thinks. “I don't know yet,” she takes a long sip, “thanks for bringing me here.”

  “It's fine.”

  “No, really, I appreciate it. Especially because…” she shakes her head and stops talking, pink colouring her cheeks.

  I take a step closer, “Because?”

  She shakes her head again and the pink deepens.

  I take another step closer and grab her chin, coaxing it up so that her eyes meet mine, “Because?”

  She draws in a long breath as if defeated, “Because I’m not sure you even like me.”

  I frown. But then I think about all our previous interactions and my stomach squeezes. I can see why she might think that. “That’s not true. There’re a lot of things I like about you.”

  “There are?” Her voice is a quiet whisper.

  “Sure. The way you handle Daryl even when he treats you like shit, the way you carry yourself in a room, you’re smart and funny and very talented.” Her mouth parts just a little and my body heats up. I’ve said too much.

  I should step away and offer to take her back, but I can't move. I’m rooted in place, searching her hazel eyes, watching the caramel swirl inside as it heats. We had our moment; I’ve already fucked her. The next guy she meets can be the one that makes love to her. It’s what she wants. I can tell.

  But the thought of another man inside her makes my body tight and my skin crawl. I don't want her to remember me as the man that fucked her. She called me selfish and fast. I’m neither of those things. I know what pleasure is, and maybe I could give it to her, maybe I could erase that memory for her and replace it with a better one. I can do that—for her.

  I barely notice myself getting closer to her, staring down at her, kissing her. It’s a soft kiss, a gentle kiss. I can be gentle, I can be caring—for her—I could, to show her I can be. She doesn’t back away. Instead, her hands snake around my neck in invitation and my arms wrap around her, pulling her flush against me.

  My hand finds its way into her hair and I tug lightly, kissing her harder this time, my tongue slips into her mouth and I taste her again. A lethal combination of coffee and Emily. I fasten her to me, wanting more—convincing myself that all I'm doing is wanting to give her more, a better memory. I’m loath to break the kiss, and when I do, she whimpers. She wants this.

  I lace my hand through hers and lead her to my bedroom. She sits on the edge of my bed where I can finally kiss her again, touch her, and take my time to explore her. I loom over her forcing her back onto the bed where I tuck mys
elf between her legs and kiss her as I grind my hard cock into her. She moans into my mouth and I swallow the sound making it mine. Today I’m going to make everything about her mine.

  My hands slide beneath her shirt, her skin is heated and soft and I find her breast. I tease the nipple over the fabric and she arches into me, whimpering as I kiss her jaw and drag my teeth over her neck. But I want more, I want everything—for her.

  I break the kiss and lift her shirt; she lets me remove it then goes for mine. I’m more than happy to oblige, my skin craves hers. I allow her a short moment to take me in, her eyes rake over my torso before I reach behind her and unclasp her bra. I want to see her, a pleasure I didn't get to enjoy during our previous encounter.

  I unzip her skirt and remove it, along with her underwear, then take a minute to relish in a naked Emily. She’s fucking perfect. Her swollen glistening lips are parted and her beautiful breasts rise and fall with her sharp breaths. Her hip bones jut out slightly and her tightly squeezed thighs hide her sweet pussy. But I’m not worried, I plan on getting very well acquainted with it.

  I kiss her. Kissing her could be my full-time job, and I would die a happy man. But I don't just kiss her lips, every inch of her screams for my attention—her long neck, her collar bones, her dark rosy nipple, that tighten in my mouth and every time my thumb rolls over them. Fuck, she tastes so good. I kiss her hips and the thin pink circumference left by her underwear, then back up again. She mewls like she was expecting more and I smile against her belly button.

  I will make her suffer with pleasure till every other man she thinks about will be nothing but a disappointment.

  My mouth closes around a nipple and she arches into me, a muffled moan rips from her lips and I find the other with my hand, teasing it till she whimpers and presses harder into me. I’m so fucking hard and so fucking ready, but I still haven’t shown her everything. My hand slides down her belly and between her legs where I find her wet, hot pussy. I run my fingers up and down, a gentle touch that has her whimpering and her hips rolling.

  Fuck, she’s pretty when she wants me, when she wants more; but I also want more of Emily, I want to know what every inch of her tastes like. I kiss the contours of her hips and that place where her hip bones dip and she wriggles under my kisses. I kiss her toned thighs then inside them, and when I think she has suffered through enough frustration I take my first taste of her. A sweet, little sound rips from her mouth and floods my senses. Fuck, everything about her is delicious. My tongue teases and licks while my eyes are locked to her face. I want to see it when she cums. I don't want to miss a breath, a frown, a single facial expression.

  Her head whips back into my pillow and she bites down hard on her lower lip. Her hips grind against my tongue and her body begins to shake and tighten. Her thighs lock around my head, her breath comes out in short, harsh pants. She mumbles—it could be a prayer, or maybe she is begging—it sounds desperate and beautiful and I run my hands up to her breast where I tug on her nipples. Her thighs clamp around me and her fingers claw at my scalp as she cries out to God and I smirk against her hot, wet pussy as she grinds it into my mouth.

  Her body slackens and I take a second to rip off my clothes before I slowly crawl up her body. I’m not done yet, and I’m so hard it hurts. I kiss her everywhere on the way up—her skin coated in a sheen of sweat—till I find her mouth and catch her lips with mine. I line myself up with her, her heat alone threatening to push me over.

  With a slow long thrust, I’m inside her and her wet heat overwhelms my senses. My pulse drums against my throat as I move inside her, finding respite in her lips. I keep my pace slow, hitting her sensitive clit. Her hips roll against me, and I grit my teeth. I want to last, I want to see her face again, this time from close up. I want to hear the words she mumbles. Her legs wrap around me and her head falls back, framed by her lush thick hair. My hands move down to her ass and I quicken my pace, lust coils inside my body, and I need release.

  She cries out again, and fuck, I love that sound. It speaks to the beast inside me that starts to pound against her, hard sharp thrusts that hit her clit. She shakes beneath me, mumbling, talking to the gods again. My mouth closes around her nipple, sending her over. “Fuck Hunter.” She cries as she clings to me, fingers clawing at my back, hips pushing against mine and her pussy squeezes me so tightly, my orgasm shatters across my body. I bury my face in her nape and cum hard—harder than I remember coming in a long time. I push myself deep into her and let go.

  Her face nuzzles on my chest and I relish in her scent and the feel of her. I don’t entirely know what it is about her that makes me feel so content.

  “Do you ever get scared?” her voice is silky and tired and her question surprises me, like so many of her previous ones.

  “Nah.”

  “Really?” she lifts up and looks into my eyes.

  I shrug. “When you get into it, if it comes to that, when you’re making sure you or your client don’t get hurt, you’re full of adrenalin and too busy fighting to really think about it.”

  She nods and her head tilts a little, “and after?”

  I exhale slowly, “not scared, but sometimes you run other scenarios in your head, like how things could have ended up. But I don't dwell on it. Fear had no place in this line of work.”

  “Cause you’re so tough?”

  I grunt, “No, cause I try to be smart. I learned that early. I had to win, but I also had to come out of it as best as I could if I didn't.”

  “When you were a kid?”

  I nod.

  “What was that like?”

  I sigh and tuck an errant hair behind her ear. “I did what I had to do.”

  “You must have been scared then.”

  I shake my head wondering if I was. “I think I was too busy being hungry and looking after Red. Other kids picked on me cause they thought being poor and orphaned made me an easy target, but they soon learned to leave me alone.”

  “It must have been so hard for you.” Her voice is so caring and intimate, it thrums through my body.

  I shift a little not wanting to talk about it. That past is gone. That kid is gone, and I don't need anyone’s pity or sympathy. I do the thing I do best and divert the conversation. “What about you?”

  “Me?” Her eyes fall away and her fingers trace a long line along my abdomen.

  “Your childhood, your parents.”

  “My dad travelled a lot with his business so I didn’t get to spend much time with him growing up.”

  I recall something about Mr. Shepard being a businessman. “And your mom?”

  She bites on her lip and looks away, staying quiet for a moment. “I lived with her; she was a great mom.”

  “Was?”

  Her lips twitch and bend in that way they do when they try to hold back pain, “Before she died, she told me that she and my dad were tragically in love in the worst possible way.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugs and doesn’t elaborate. She knows a little about the pain of losing a parent. I don’t peel away at that question just now; I know how much it hurts. I go a different angle. I want to keep making her smile for just a little longer. “Is that what you want?”

  “To be tragically in love?”

  I nod.

  “It would be an incredible adventure.”

  “A tragic adventure?”

  “A beautiful one.”

  I purse my lips in a strange half-smile half frown, “I’m sure you’ll find it one day.”

  “One day.” She smiles and her eyes shimmer like she sees something on my face that’s not there, and my words lodge in my throat as my heart chugs. No. I don't do love, tragic or otherwise. Whatever she is thinking needs to be extinguished, and quickly.

  “Well ‘one day’ isn’t on my calendar.”

  Her smile fades and my stomach coils, hating that I’ve made her feel that way after I made her feel so good.

  “So…” she bites on her lip a
nd meets my gaze. I have a suspicion of what she might ask and I think it’s better for both of us if she doesn't.

  I cut her off with one of my lame lines, “You know which day is on my calendar?”

  She shakes her head a little, her long brown hair bounces off her breasts and I'm already getting hard again.

  “Humpday.” She giggles and I pull her body over mine drawing her in for a kiss. “Let me show you what we do on those days.”

  Her phone rings again, and she slips out of the bed and out of my arms. I miss her there instantly but I also like the view as she scrambles around looking for it. She finds it in her jacket pocket and looks up at me. “Thanks for the help.”

  I can’t help the smirk on my face. “Sure thing,” I wink.

  Emily on all fours is something I might have to look at again later. Later? I bat the thought away. There is no later. I did what I said I was going to do. I gave her a new memory, the pleasure she deserved, and now we can both move on.

  Her phone falls silent again. “I should really call him back.” She says and slips into my t-shirt. It’s like a too big dress for her, reaching almost to her knees and showing off her long neck and all of her right shoulder. It’s sexy as hell.

  “Do you know what you’ll tell him?”

  “The truth?”

  I nod, “I could take you back, we can tell him together.”

  Her mouth falls slightly open and her eyes widen. Last time she looked at me like that we ended up here. Her lips are fucking mesmerising, swollen and bruised from my kisses, and I have an urge to kiss her again. I rip my eyes away and swing my legs off the bed. We should get going anyway.

  “Shower.” I point and mumble as she puts the phone to her ear and nods at me.

  The hot water hits my skin like needles, it takes a second for my body to adjust to the heat. Planting my hands on the wall I dip my head under the spout letting the water run down over the back of my head, my neck, my back. I think about Emily wearing my shirt in the next room and my dick begins to swell and start to grow hard. “Fuck.” I empty my lungs and try to empty my mind but I can't. She’s everywhere. She fills my head like I filled her pussy an hour ago, her sweet moans and rambled whimpers heat my blood, and fuck, I want her again. I’m walking through uncharted territory and question every move I make. I brought her to my house, to my bed and held her after I fucked her. I don't hold women; I fuck them and leave. But I didn’t want to let Emily go; I was loath to release her sweet little body that wriggled against mine. My blood heats and my body and brain battle one another. This is stupid. I turn off the hot water and all of my thoughts, focusing solely on getting myself clean, dressed and away from here. Away from her.